


happy birthday!

by whataboutpierre (sunflowerwithfeelings)



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Birthday Fluff, Birthday Party, Fluff and Humor, M/M, Modern Era, Mutual Pining, Romantic Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-27
Updated: 2017-07-27
Packaged: 2018-12-07 19:19:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11630187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunflowerwithfeelings/pseuds/whataboutpierre
Summary: That made Éponine smile and nod her head. She’d make sure to tell Grantaire to name a grandkid after her.“Then it’s settled. I’ll make a groupchat,” Bahorel said digging out his phone.“It’s gonna be lit!” Courfeyrac clapped.“What is?” Grantaire crossed the room, a beer in his hand.Without missing a beat, Éponine spoke up. “The new Marvel movie that’s coming out next year.”





	happy birthday!

“I know everyone’s birthday!” Courfeyrac gasped as he dramatically clutched his chest at Combeferre’s accusation that he didn’t. He sat on Joly’s couch with Jehan smushed into his right and Cosette and Marius poking into his left side. Joly, Bossuet, and Musichetta were piled together on the love-seat like cats. Bahorel and Feuilly stood behind them, a beer in hand. Enjolras and Combeferre found themselves chair’s from the kitchen table and Éponine and Grantaire had made themselves comfortable on Joly’s rug.

That is until Courfeyrac mentioned birthdays and Grantaire suddenly found himself needed in the kitchen.

“No you don’t,” Enjolras scoffed.

“Bet,” Courfeyrac smiled widely. “Your birthday is September 30th. Combeferre’s is May 3rd, Joly’s was on Thursday, Feuilly’s is January 16th.”

Éponine tensed up as Courfeyrac listed everyone’s birthday out loud. It was like he was reciting lines from a script, only once did he stumble on Musichetta’s birthday. But he caught himself and continued. She tried to draw her attention elsewhere but the dip of silence went noticed by everyone.

“And Grantaire’s is....” Courfeyrac paused. “Sometime in October…?” Combeferre snorted. “What? Do _you_ know his birthday?”

Éponine shot a look at Courfeyrac that could only be described as the split second before cold-blooded murder. 

Sometime ago in Éponine and Grantaire’s friendship, he made the off-remark that he didn’t like to celebrate his birthday. She never pressed as to why this was, knowing his personality, she guessed, but that didn’t stop her from secretly finding out what day it was. From knowing the right people at the museum, Éponine was able to pull some strings and satisfy her curiosity. 

November 26th. 

Every year since figuring it out, she’d always be a little more on her best-behavior. As good as her best-behavior could be without him noticing. One year, she came barrelling into his apartment with a bucket of ice cream she boasted that she’d shoplifted and they sat on the floor, eating it with two spoons as a shitty Hallmark movie played. They sat and laughed at the characters and all the bad choices or shitty lines they said. Another year, Éponine said she wanted to get a tattoo and demanded Grantaire go with her. The year after that, it was an old Halloween scarf she saw in a shop’s window. It hadn’t been on Clearance, despite the holiday already passing, but she stole a red sticker and stuck it on to avoid suspicion. In all their years as friends, Éponine made her agenda fly under the radar and Grantaire never knew. 

Then a couple of years back, Éponine introduced Grantaire to the Les Amis. A scrappy, yet oddly well put together, group of friends whose favorite pastime was to argue social or political issues and slap the title ‘activist’ to the end of their resume. Each of them had their own quirk and original personality, and yet Grantaire found himself observing at the back of the room. That is, until Enjolras, the unoffical offical leader of the pack, stood up and started on his usual ‘what-slightly-inconvenienced-me-today’ rant. 

That’s when Éponine found out about the crush.

“You know his birthday, don’t you Éponine?” Enjolras asked and suddenly all eyes were on her.

Éponine felt a wall of red sirens scream in her head, her palms becoming increasingly sweaty. She was good at lying but it’s not like her friends had horrible intentions for Grantaire. They probably wanted to know out of the same curiosity she had years ago. They meant no harm.

She would’ve lied and said he never talked out it. She would’ve lied and said she didn’t know. She would’ve told them to fuck off. But she didn’t. The one looming factor that sent her over the edge was a couple of nights ago.

 

**+**

 

An invitation for Joly’s party landed square in his hand.

“This Saturday?” Grantaire asked, flipping to the back.

“Yeah, I don’t have the time on Thursday to do anything so i figured the next available day for everyone would be Saturday. Is that chill with you?” Joly placed an invitation into Bahorel’s hand. It was the end of a meeting and Joly was rushing to get everyone one before they wandered out of the door.

“No, yeah. That’s fine. I’ll see you then!” Grantaire said as he took his leave.

Éponine sensed something was off when he left but she didn’t want to rush over to him to draw anyone else’s concern. If he needed her, he’d text her later that day.

And he did. Depression was never fun to deal with alone.

**_Grantaire: wanna watch mean girls?_ **

**_Éponine: dude, that’d be the sixth time this month. U ok?_ **

**_Grantaire: bring a bottle of wine to_ **

 

**+**

 

“He doesn’t like celebrating it, or talking about it really. But he has been…” Éponine looked around the room, everyone’s wondering eyes on her. “Down lately.” She could see Enjolras’ eyes soften, an emotion she couldn’t make out in the midst of the others. “It’s in two weeks.”

“Two weeks?” Enjolras pulled out his phone and scrolled through his calendar. “The 26th?”

Éponine just nodded. She didn’t feel regret for exposing a secret like that, only hope that since she had, what the others had planned might brighten Grantaire’s spirit.

“My parents have a penthouse that’ll be free that week. Sound okay?” Enjolras offered. Maybe it was because it was him that was offering that made Éponine smile and nod her head. She’d make sure to tell Grantaire to name a grandkid after her. 

“Then it’s settled. I’ll make a groupchat,” Bahorel said digging out his phone.

“It’s gonna be lit!” Courfeyrac clapped.

“What is?” Grantaire crossed the room, a beer in his hand.

Without missing a beat, Éponine spoke up. “The new Marvel movie that’s coming out next year.”

 

* * *

 

**_Courfeyrac: how old is he?_ **

**_Enjolras: not a concern. what we need is someone to lure him into the party area without being suspicious. éponine?_ **

**_Éponine: it'll be too obvious if i do it. whenever i ‘celebrate’ i do it as chill as i possibly can. he’d be onto me_ **

**_Combeferre: Enjolras could do it._ **

**_Enjolras: what_**  

**_Joly: yeah that could work!_ **

**_Joly: work your magic on him -Musichetta_ **

**_Feuilly: what're we doing for catering?_ **

**_Bahorel: i could ask the head chef if she feels like catering for us?_**  

**_Bossuet: I have a working car if anyone needs me to pick something up._ **  

**_Courfeyrac: you are now chauffeur_ **

 

* * *

 

Grantaire woke up to someone rummaging through his kitchen. And he would've stayed in bed and let them do it if he hadn't bought a fresh, new box of Hot Pockets.

So he dragged himself out of bed, his plaid pajamas pants rolling back down after they'd been rolled up in his sleep. His bare feet tapped on the wooden floor; he stretched and yawned.

“Yo, if you're stealing from my kitchen just don't-”

“I'm not stealing anything…”

Grantaire opened his eyes wide at the familiar voice. Enjolras stood in the middle of his kitchen, a glass of water in his hand. His ever-so-popular red jacket was always a little too big for him and hung loosely against his light brown skin. His face turned hot as he looked over Grantaire who was shirtless, all his quirky and unique tattoos out and about on his chest. Grantaire rubbed his face.

“Enj, what are you doing here?”

“Well, you wouldn’t answer your door and Gavroche was on his way to visit Azelma, so he let me in.” Enjolras said as he took a sip of water.

“I would get a new lock,” Grantaire rubbed his eyes and walked towards the kitchen. He couldn’t function without something caffeinated, “but the fucker would probably pick it, just like he does, so what’s the point.”

Enjolras blew air from his nose and smiled. When Grantaire made his way around the counter, he saw a cup of coffee already there, waiting for him. He looked back up at Enjolras who just shrugged his shoulders.

“You never answered my question,” Grantaire picked up the mug. It was still warm. “Why are you here?”

“Everyone else is busy and I’m bored,” Enjolras knew he wasn’t the best liar, as he was informed by Éponine, but this wasn’t a full lie. 

Grantaire snorted, “so I’m to entertain you?”

“Yeah,” Enjolras tried looking somewhere else than Grantaire’s chest, or his hair, or his eyes, or just at him in general. “It’s a beautiful day outside.”

The sunlight glazed over Enjolras hair, making it look like pure gold. Grantaire studied this exact moment, trying to capture every detail, in case he ran into artist’s block and needed something to paint. Enjolras would always be his muse.

And that’s how Grantaire ended up sitting across from Enjolras at a very aesthetically pleasing pizza restaurant. He would ask if he’s done something. He would ask what he’s done to deserve this. He would ask what the occasion was. But something in the back of his mind told him that this might be a one-time thing, so he didn’t venture any questions about it.

The walls were brick, fake, and appeared to be torn down or weathered away. The floors, a dark mahogany. By the bar, there were concert lights that shown on the assortment of liquors and alcoholic drinks in the back. The booths were faded to a dull red as old, classic rock played over the speakers. Picture’s of 80’s and 90’s rock bands, album covers, cool guitars, and drum sticks hung on the wall. Grantaire hadn’t ever heard of this place before, which made him wonder how Enjolras, of all people, had. The latter sat criss-cross on the booth across, his golden mane hanging over his face as he browsed the menu. Grantaire already knew what he wanted, it sat right in front of him.

“How’d you come across this place again?”

Enjolras looked up and smirked, “the owner’s kid got into some legal trouble.”

“So is this meal free then?” Grantaire snorted and propped his head up with his hand.

Enjolras bit his bottom lip but before he could answer, a waitress walked over and asked for their order. She wore faded jeans, ‘Rush’ plastered over her shirt in bold, golden letters with a baby dragon wearing a party hat underneath. Grantaire noticed that that was the uniform for the restaurant, a t-shirt and jeans. If his job at the museum didn’t work out, he could vibe with this place.

Grantaire didn’t want to admit it, but it felt more like a date than anything. Enjolras was sneaking small glances at him, smiling and blushing slightly, then going back to munching on his food. It felt like they were 17 again and they were two teenagers going out for the first time. He wished that feeling wouldn’t end, even if it might of just been one-sided.

But it wasn’t.

Enjolras had been harboring a crush on Grantaire from a couple months ago when he offered to help paint a mural in Enjolras’ office. Him and Combeferre had been talking numbers for commissions when Grantaire heard their discussion and said he’d do it for ice cream and a bottle of their finest wine. Every time he came into work, he'd get to look at it. It was truly stunning. When his eyes traced over the fine lines of the piece, his heart knocked against his chest.

The waitress came back around to fill up their drinks when she reached over and said the meal was ‘on the house’. Enjolras wiggled his eyebrows at Grantaire, making him chuckle. The real reason Enjolras had chosen this place wasn’t for the free food or the ‘Grantaire’ atmosphere, although those were a bonus. He chose it because it was in walking distance of the place where the party was.

At the end, his phone buzzed.

 

**_Courfeyrac: Everything is ready!_ **

 

_Alright Enjolras...you can do this._

 

He slid his phone back into his pocket and looked at Grantaire who was already scooting his way out of the booth. Grantaire stuffed his hands into his jean pockets and walked out of the glass doors with Enjolras close to his side.

The sky outside was now a more of a medium blue, Enjolras guessing the time to be around 4-5:30. He pulled his sleeves down and around his hands so only his fingers stuck out, hoping Grantaire would buy the act that he was getting cold. Éponine, who didn’t know about this crush, taught him a thing or two about body language in case things with Grantaire didn’t sell.

Then he went off-script.

Grantaire’s hands were in his pockets, so instead of holding his hand like he planned, he wrapped both arms around one of Grantaire’s and pressed his chest to his elbow. Enjolras’ cheek almost touched Grantaire’s shoulder. He couldn’t see Grantaire’s face so he hoped this was okay. But Grantaire wasn’t objecting. If anything, he seemed to relax into Enjolras. Like it was normal.

When they got to a cross-walk and had to stop to let the cars go, Enjolras rose to his toes and pressed a sweet and gentle kiss to Grantaire’s cheek. His cheeks blushed scarlet. The air in Grantaire’s lungs seemed to deflate like a balloon.

As soon as they got in the elevator, they couldn’t keep their hands off of each other. Grantaire’s hands found their way to Enjolras’ bare-back, pressing him closer. Enjolras’ fingers roamed the back of Grantaire’s scalp, gently pulling and invoking quiet moans from him. That didn’t help his growing erection in his pants. At this point, Enjolras forgot about the party and the only thoughts running through his head is why he didn’t ask Grantaire on a date earlier. They could’ve skipped all the pining and dancing around each other and just could’ve made-out instead. This felt so much better than winning an argument or court case, both of which he did frequently. This felt so electric and so right.  

The elevator door dinged on their floor and Enjolras was practically dragging Grantaire to the room by his lips. A fire danced between them and Grantaire ended up pressing Enjolras against the door to the room they were supposed to enter. The jiggle of the wood snapped Enjolras’ memory back to why they were even here in the first place and he pushed back a little on Grantaire.

A soft ‘hmm?’ came from Grantaire.

Enjolras whispered, “I need to..uh, calm myself.”

Grantaire furrowed his eyebrows, “why? Is this not okay?”

“Oh no,” Enjolras whispered as he held Grantaire’s face. “This is more than okay.” Grantaire nodded his head like he partially understood. “Just trust in me." 

They waited a couple minutes, Enjolras fixed his own hair since touching Grantaire’s might not be the best course of action at the moment. Then he opened the door, the room pitch black. Grantaire walked in and Enjolras flicked the lights on.

 

**“HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!”**

 

Combeferre and Courfeyrac jumped out from behind the kitchen counter. Joly, Jehan, and Bahorel smiled from the opposite side of a long couch. Musichetta and Éponine popped out from two chairs next to the couch. Feuilly and Bossuet hid behind two fake plants. Cosette and Marius didn’t attempt to hide and just threw their arms up.

Grantaire was surprised, that was for sure, Éponine was just worrying what his reaction to all this might be. Then he laughed. He laughed and touched the side of Enjolras’ arm. He laughed and wiped permanent smiles on everyone’s face. Éponine smiled to.

 

* * *

 

“You guys really didn’t have to do this,” Grantaire said as he threw away some extra paper plates scattered around the place. Everyone had filtered out and now it was only Enjolras and him left inside.

“Nah, we wanted to. Plus my parents had this open and I thought it’d be fun to wreck the place.” Enjolras smiled.

 

_Oh. This was because of Enjolras._

 

“Answer me something."

“Hmm?” Enjolras was stuffing the extra ice cream into the refrigerator.

Grantaire turned away from Enjolras as he grabbed an empty Dr. Pepper can from the couch. “Was...all that before the party...was that all real? Or was it just a ploy to get me here? ‘Cause either way, I’ll be okay I just wanted-”

Enjolras’ hands wrapped around Grantaire’s waist and spun him around so they faced each other. “No, it was all very, very real.”

“Oh..” Grantaire felt his face get hot even if the fan above was spinning on high. “So, you like me?”

Enjolras laughed and smirked, his face drifting closer to Grantaire’s. “Yeah, maybe a even a little more than that.”

Grantaire liked the idea of getting to kiss Enjolras now. His lips were plush and warm and tasted like honey. If this was how Grantaire would be treated on his birthdays, he didn’t see why celebrating them was such a bad idea. Why didn’t he celebrate it earlier?

 

_-A year later  -_

 

Grantaire opened his eyes and the first thing he saw was the sun. It no longer peered at him like a good morning ‘fuck-you’, but instead came in the shape of a man who laid snug against his chest. The white sheets looked like clouds. He was half convinced he was in heaven already. A happy noise came from below him, blond hair rustling and two soft blue looking up at him.

“Good morning lovely,” Enjolras purred.

“Good morning,” Grantaire whispered, kissing the top of Enjolras’ forehead.

“Grantaire?”

“Hmm?”

“Happy Birthday.”

**Author's Note:**

> I really wanted to write a birthday AU i just didn't know when and who and how lol  
> Thank you for reading!  
> You can find me [here](http://queersunflowers.tumblr.com/) on tumblr.


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